


Trapped in a Nightmare

by MelanieSkye



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanieSkye/pseuds/MelanieSkye
Summary: While tracking a blood mage, a demon sends Hawke, Anders, Fenris, and Varric into the Fade...and into Fenris's nightmare. Anders, Hawke, and Varric try to figure out how to wake him without getting stuck in Fade.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Trapped in a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been on my mind for ages. I hope you enjoy!

Hawke groaned as she sat up, brushing her dark auburn hair out of her eyes. She looked around, taking note of Anders and Varric near her as she took in her surroundings. The sky was a deep blue with black splotches that looked almost like cracks dotting the sky. The buildings around them didn’t have any sort of familiar architecture. The buildings had dramatic horizontal and vertical lines with the buildings reaching up high into the heavens. Tall pillars were connected to almost each home. Behind them was a huge wall that appeared to be almost twice her height. The buildings were in shades of browns and cream causing the gray wall surrounding the area to stand out. Statutes peppered the area and appeared by the entry way of nearly every place.

Hawke’s eyes turned to Varric when she heard him groan and sit up.

“Where are we?” Varric said as he looked around, his hand gripping Bianca as if to make sure the crossbow was there.

“The Fade,” Anders answered, his eyes focused on the cracks in the sky.

Hawke nodded absently—she had thought as much.

Varric’s eyes flicked to Hawke. “You take me to the best places, Hawke.”

She gave him a wolfish grin. “You’d be bored with anything less.” Hawke grabbed her staff that laid next to her, feeling grounded in the feel of the wood against her hand. “How did we get here?”

“We were fighting the demon that blood mage summoned in Darktown. I’m assuming it sent us here?” Anders mused aloud.

“It was you, me, Varric, and–” Hawke frowned. “Where’s Fenris?” She scrambled to her feet, looking around for the elf.

“Maybe Broody got left behind?” Varric’s voice was laced with concern, revealing that he did not believe that was the case himself. He stood up next to her. “How do we get out of here?”

“This was likely created from one of our dreams and we need to break it to get out.” Anders leaned on his staff as he stood, brown eyes calculating. “Does this look familiar to either of you?”

Both Varric and Hawke shook their heads. “I’ve never seen buildings that looked like this,” Hawke added. “This isn’t Kirkwall or Fereldan.”

“So, we need to find the person whose mind is creating this and wake them up.”

Hawke chewed on her bottom lip. “We need to find Fenris. Find Fenris first and then we can figure a way out of here.” Hawke stared at Anders as if daring him to disagree. Anders and Fenris didn’t get along on the best of days but she was not leaving without him.

“There’s someone coming.” Varric said, interrupting what might become a battle of wills.

A young elven woman walked towards them; her eyes focused on the ground. Her hair was pulled back into a thick braid that fell past her shoulders. A simple dress clothed her, and her feet were bare. Around her neck was a thick, leather collar.

“A slave,” Hawke murmured, and both men nodded in agreement.

When she reached them, she finally looked up but did not meet any of their eyes. “Master, Mistress,” She curtsied to both Anders and Hawke in turn but didn’t acknowledge Varric’s presence. “Master Danarius has asked me to lead you both to the gardens.”

“Danarius?” Hawke’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that Fenris’s–”

The elven woman glanced up, her blue eyes meeting Hawke’s own for only a moment. Hawke smiled lightly at her. “What’s your name?”

The woman’s eyes stayed firmly locked on the ground. “Sophia, Mistress.”

“Nice to meet you, Sophia. Is this the same Danarius that…owns…Fenris?” It took everything in her to not spit out the word owns in regards to Fenris but it still came out with gritted teeth.

Sophia snuck a confused glance up at Hawke that none of them missed. “Yes, Mistress. This party is to celebrate Master’s most favored slave being returned to him.”

Hawke’s knuckles began to turn white as she squeezed her fists together. “Do you know why we were invited?”

Sophia stared between Hawke and Anders, confusion written over her features. “Because you sold him back to my master, Mistress.”

“What?” Hawke snapped, her eyes narrowing.

Sophia flinched and hunched her shoulders into herself—the defensive position an animal takes before it is kicked. Anders reached out and grabbed Hawke’s arm. He forced a smile at Sophia. “Lead the way, my lady.”

Sophia’s lips twitched slightly as if holding back a smile before turning around and leading the group.

Hawke, for her part, hissed at Anders. “I would never–”

“I know, Hawke.” Anders soothed.

“At least we know whose dream this is.” Varric paused. “Or nightmare?”

“He’s afraid I’ll give him back to Danarius?” Her voice broke and her shoulders shook slightly.

Anders rubbed circles into her back. Anders’s voice changed when he spoke again. “You must wake him.”

Distracted, Hawke glanced over where Anders’s eyes had become a blinding blue. “I was wondering. You came out immediately when we were in the Fade for Feynriel.” 

“We are two separate beings in the Fade. As this is about waking a party member, I believe Anders is best suited to assist you rather than I. I shall be here to assist, should you need it Marian Hawke.”

Hawke blinked back the tears that had been threatening to fall before responding. “Thank you, Justice.” She watched as the blue light that cracked through his skin and eyes dissipated.

Anders’s brown eyes blinked at her. “What?”

Hawke shrugged one shoulder. “Justice offered to help if I wanted but says you’re best suited right now.”

The group continued to follow Sophia around the manor into a garden that made Hawke’s jaw drop. The garden took up the size of a small manor. Paths were laid out in cobblestones with statutes at each corner. Archways lined each entrance with hedges leading into the garden proper. Ponds with lily pads and black lotuses dotted the corners. In the center was a large paved area decorated with chairs, tables, and fountains. Dozens of people mingled about, most of them with staffs attached to their backs. Slaves wandered around with trays of drinks and food. The sounds of soft conversation lingered through the air.

“This is fancier than most of the soirees in Hightown.” Hawke mumbled as Sophia led them towards a thin man with graying hair and a bid. He wore a classic Tevinter mage robe in black and red. When they reached him, Sophia fell into a deep curtsey. “Master, may I present Mistress Hawke, Master Anders, and their servant, Varric.”

“Of course I’m the servant,” Varric grumbled.

If Danarius heard Varric he didn’t let on and instead bowed gracefully. Tevinter bows were at the waist, lacking the flourish common with Orlesians. Hawke offered her hand when Danarius reached for it and he kissed it. “I am glad you could attend. After all, this party is partly in you honor. Without you I could not celebrate my dear wolf returning to me.”

Hawke took a deep breath before responding. “Is there any way I could speak to him one last time?”

“You wish to remind him of his worth to you?” Danarius chuckled. “I knew another mage would understand.”

Hawke smiled. “Of course.” _Not a lie._

The slaver nodded. “You may speak to him while he’s at the healer’s after his punishment.”

“The healer’s?” She questioned.

“Of course. I must publicly punish him. That’s part of what this celebration is for. Otherwise, the magisters might think me weak.” He smiled. “And we can’t have that, now can we?”

A metallic tang hit her taste buds as Hawke bit her tongue in an effort to _not_ deck Danarius. Anders grabbed her arm, as if to warn her from speaking her mind. “Of course. We can’t have that.”

He wandered away as Anders grabbed two glasses of wine off a tray a slave was walking around. He handed her a glass. She stared into the glass, watching the red wine swish around. “He’s going to torture him in front of all these people,” Hawke hissed.

Anders sighed. “I know.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “But think like the mage you are, Hawke. For us to get out, _he_ has to realize he’s dreaming. If we go around and start hacking at demons, he—and by default, us—could get stuck here.”

Hawke grumbled wordlessly.

Anders stared up at the cracked sky. “As much as I don’t like Fenris, I would rather him not think he’s a slave forever.”

“Fine,” Hawke growled. “But I’m not mingling at the fake, Maker-forsaken party.”

Varric chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you there, Hawke.”

There was a noise behind them, and Hawke turned to see a group of slaves setting up a wooden pillar, securely staked into the ground. The chattering increased as a slave led Fenris towards the pillar using a leash. He wore nothing but his smalls. His hair hung limply around his face, his eyes staring dully at the ground in front of him. He looked up and met Hawke’s eyes for a moment. His eyes were filled with pain, hurt, betrayal and Hawke couldn’t prevent the strangled sound that left her lips.

She knew Anders was right but how could she watch this. Fenris. _Her_ Fenris. He belonged to himself, not this evil excuse for a man.

The slave raised Fenris bound hands and attached them to a link on the pillar. Fenris was forced fully upright, his toes barely able to touch the ground.

A large man with the arms of a blacksmith walked forward whip in hand. When he looked at Fenris he grinned, and Hawke wanted to hide or pull Fenris into her arms. Or both. Because _of course_ Danarius wouldn’t whip Fenris himself.

Danarius stood beside the pillar and clapped, smiling. “Friends! Thank you for being here. As you can see my prodigal slave returned.” He ran his hand through Fenris’s hair and Fenris shuddered. “I’m sure many of you brought your own slaves here so that they could see the consequences of running away. And don’t worry, you’ll get a turn!”

The group chuckled and Hawke furrowed her brows in confusion. He was going to let all the magisters whip him? She didn’t see these men and women putting forward that amount of effort.

Danarius was still talking. “I think twenty lashings will be sufficient.”

Hawke winced. Varric spoke up. “This is a dream, well a nightmare, none of this is actually happening.” It was unclear whether he was trying to convince Hawke or himself. 

“He thinks it is though.” She said quietly.

Varric didn’t have a response to that.

Danarius and the nearby slaves moved away as the man unfurled his whip. He snapped it right next to the pillar, causing Fenris to flinch. The next snap hit him in the back, and he cried out. She couldn’t see his face, it was facing the pillar, but she knew it was contorted in pain.

Snap.

Hawke dug her nails into her hands as she forced herself to stay rooted. With each snap, the strangled cries got louder and louder until you could hear sobs as he screamed in pain. Tears ran down her own face as she grabbed onto a nearby lamp post to prevent herself from running to him. _This is a dream!_ She screamed at him mentally, over and over, wishing he would wake up and realize none of this was really happening. _We’re in the Fade! Please wake up, Fenris, please!_

Fenris’s voice grew hoarse as the whip continued to land. Most of the faces of the mages around her were smiling. The slaves for their part were studying the ground. _No wonder you hate mages. Is that why you dream that I betray you? That I_ sell _you?_

By the end of it, Fenris had no cries left. Instead, his forehead rested against the pillar as his body shook with the force of the blows. The skin on his back was broken open, blood running down it, dying the visible parts of his smalls red.

When the whip finally stilled, Fenris whimpered.

“That has to be it, right?” Hawke mumbled.

“I would hope so.” Varric muttered back.

Slaves moved forward and unhooked Fenris’s arm. Fenris slouched to the ground, unable to hold himself up. One slave split the pillar in half while others set up chain links in front of and behind the pillar. Fenris wobbled to his feet, twice nearly falling, and pulled off his smalls. He stepped out of them as one slave grabbed them from the ground. A different slave bent him forward so his torso was laying across the pillar like a table and chained his arms to the ground. Two other slaves pull his legs far enough apart that they shook and chained them there. Yet another placed a circular ring inside his mouth, forcing it open.

“Wait. What?” Hawke hissed, taking a step forward.

Anders grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Hawke thrust her elbow back, hitting him hard in the torso causing him to fold over in pain.

“Andraste’s tits, Hawke.” Anders groaned, holding onto his stomach. 

Hawke shook her head furiously. “I can’t watch this. I _won’t_ watch this.” She turned and stormed away, blocking out the next words come from Danarius’s mouth. Her shoulders shook at the sounds of screaming and flesh hitting flesh, tears rolling down her eyes unbidden.

They found a small grove of trees that blocked out the sight--but unfortunately not the sounds--of the torture and Hawke collapsed on to bench. She looked up at Anders and Varric. “Is this really the sort of thing that happened to him?” When both men stared at her, unsure what to say, she continued. “He’s so strong. I never would’ve imagined.” She sniffled. “I want to kill that man.”

“Killing him in a dream won’t do anything.” Anders stared up at the sky.

Hawke turned a steely gaze on him. “Oh, I mean in person. He needs to die, Anders.” She gripped her knees, nails digging into the skin under her robes. “I need to hear his dying scream as he bleeds out on the ground.” 

Varric nodded his head in agreement. “We need to get out of here first, Hawke.”

The three of them did not know how long they sat there in silence before they heard Danarius’s voice. “You’ll never run away again, will you?”

“No, Master.” The words came out soft but loud enough that the people around could hear. 

“Good boy.” You could hear the smile in Danarius’s voice. He motioned to a slave standing nearby. “Get him to the infirmary.” He grinned at Fenris. “Your former master is going to come speak to you too. Be good for her too. Maybe she wants one last fuck.”

“Yes, master.” 

As the three walked back towards Fenris they saw Danarius drop Fenris’s head and it hit the wooden pillar with a thump.

As he walked away, several slaves rushed forward and began to unchain Fenris. He fell into their arms, wincing when one of them accidentally touched his torn up back. The trio followed him as he limped forward leaning against another slave. Hawke could hear the slave whisper softly to Fenris but couldn’t make out what it was. They followed into a small house next to the manor and passed rooms full of bunk beds. Each bed contained links similar to what Fenris had been chained to. Hawke fisted her robes but said nothing. Everything here came out of Fenris’s memories.

They followed him into the infirmary where he was laid on an infirmary bed—a thin thing with little padding. Fenris looked up, spotted Hawke, and terror filled his eyes. Hawke’s heart broke. 

“Have you come…to hurt me one last time?” The words came out soft and barely audible. Immediately after the words left his mouth he flinched.

“Never.” She reached out her hand and immediately pulled it back when he flinched again. Hawke made eye contact with Anders. What were they going to do to get him to realize this was a nightmare?

Fenris’s green eyes flicked between Anders and Hawke before landing on Varric. Puzzlement spread across his face and he tilted his head in thought.

Anders gave Hawke a _look_ before stepping forward. “Maybe mages aren’t oppressed. Look at the mages here.”

Fenris stared at him, brows furrowed.

Varric seemed to pick up on what Anders was doing. “I don’t know, Blondie. Slavery can’t be that bad.”

Fenris’s stare jumped to Varric.

“It’s not like _anything_ happened to me in the Circle.”

Back to Anders.

“Fenris is probably better off here with Danarius.”

Back to Varric.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “This doesn’t make sense.”

Hawke noted that the slave standing in the infirmary had paused to stare at them.

“Varric wouldn’t have come. He’s against slavery.” Fenris mused.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that there, Broo-Fenris.”

Fenris stared at Varric, forgetting to be afraid of the woman standing with them. “Why…are you calling me Fenris?”

“I mean that’s your name, right?”

“But–” He met Varric’s eyes.

Hawke watched Fenris process as he looked around the room. “Varric…wouldn’t say any of that. He always insists that I brood all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him call me Fenris. And the mage wouldn’t say mages aren’t oppressed…he’s obsessed with it. And he’d never say nothing happened to him in the Circle. He’s _obnoxious_ about it.”

Fenris paused and glanced around at them before finally meeting Hawke’s eyes without flinching. “This isn’t real. What is this? This is a dream.” 

The world around them began to swirl as the slave in the room howled. “You should have left well enough alone.”

Tevinter, the manor, and Fenris’s wounds were whisked away leaving the standard hazy Fade with a massive demon in front of them. The demon was hooded with a face made up of sets upon sets of sharp teeth. It reached a hand towards them and ice shot out at them. Hawke grabbed the surprised Fenris and leapt away from the shot.

“A despair demon.” Anders grabbed his staff and shot out an arcane bolt in one fluid motion.

Hawke moved in front of Fenris and pulled her staff from her back as arrows from Bianca whizzed past her.

Fenris growled in frustration as he pulled himself to his feet. “Fasta vass. Where is my blade?”

Hawke tossed a look back at him. “It’s the Fade, think about it and it’ll show up.”

A moment later Fenris rushed past her, sword in hand swinging at the demon in front of them. Hawke smiled lightly then slammed her staff into the ground and lightning arced outwards slamming into the demon. Hawke threw up a barrier around each of them before throwing energy blast after energy blast in the demon’s direction.

The demon screamed, a high pitched, grating sound that echoed throughout the Fade as multiple shades appeared around it. 

“Maker’s breath,” Anders snapped as a shade’s attack slid him backwards. 

Fenris ignored the shades, instead aiming for the despair demon, slashing at it with force and determination written across his face. 

The despair demon cackled at him. “How close your anger is to despair, little wolf.” 

Fenris growled as the sword struck the demon, flinging him back.

“You have so much despair in your mind, so much to feed off of.” It flung a lightning blast at Fenris that reverberated across his shields. “Nothing can stop that despair. Now you’re despairing that your friends _know_. You’re a veritable feast!”

Fenris gritted his teeth as he continued to slash at the demon, Hawke’s spells speeding around him towards it. 

Varric and Anders took out the shades while Hawke and Fenris focused on the despair demon. 

The despair demon turned its attention to Hawke. “And you, little Hawke, such delicious despair during the little wolf’s nightmare. You couldn’t do anything to wake him up. You couldn’t do anything but wallow. The others had to rescue the little wolf themselves. You were worthless.” 

“Shut _up_ , demon!” Hawke shouted, slamming her staff into the ground sending it flying with her force magic. 

When Varric and Anders took down the last shade, the four focused all attacks on the main demon. Anders sent arcane bolt after arcane bolt, Varric shot crossbow bolt after crossbow bolt, Hawke did not let up with the lightning attacks, and Fenris continued to hack at it. The demon had finally stopped its taunting to focus on the group of fighters in front of it until it finally collapsed to the ground.

The Fade spun around them, forming a whirlwind of colors before disappearing as if blown away by a gust of wind. The group found themselves laying on the ground in a Darktown alley. Hawke groaned as she sat up, looking around. “Well the blood mage is definitely gone.” 

“I don’t want to know what I’m laying on,” Varric grumbled as he clambered to his feet. 

Hawke leaned on her staff as she pulled herself to her feet, glancing over at Fenris who had stood but hadn’t said a word. His eyes flickered between the three of them, caution written on his face.

Hawke reached out a hand, speaking softly. “Fenris.” 

Fenris shook his head and took a step back. “I can’t--I can’t. I have to go.” 

Fenris all but ran away, shoulders shaking slightly. Hawke moved to run after him when Varric laid a hand on her arm. “Give him a minute, Hawke.”

She starred in the direction he disappeared into. “But…” 

“I know. Visit him at the manor in a little bit. We were in his mind. That has to be...disconcerting to say the least.” 

Hawke sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “You’re right, Varric. I hate it. But I know you’re right.”

“I often am.”

Hawke rolled her eyes and groaned before glancing at the silent Anders. His brown eyes seemed distant, as if he was processing what happened. Hawke inwardly sighed. She was going to have to talk to him, too. He had been so convinced that what Fenris went through and what mages went through were the same. How would he reconcile this with what they saw? Would he ignore it? Or would his worldview be slightly altered? 

Fenris first, though.

\------

Hawke let herself into Fenris’s Hightown manor with the key he had given her ages ago. Silence hung throughout the manor, slightly more oppressive than it normally was. She padded through the house, moving around the damage with muscle memory. Shaking her head as she stepped over broken glass, Hawke headed upstairs.

Moving into the main room’s doorway, she leaned against the door frame to watch the man in front of her. Fenris sat in the plush chair in front of the fire, staring into the flames and barely blinking. His green eyes were lined with red and his eyes were entirely unfocused. His blade laid by his feet. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands, elbows on his legs. 

Silence hung over both of them before Fenris spoke up. “How much did you see?” 

Hawke’s eyes fell to her hands and she studied her nails. “Most of it. I ran away before the...second half.” 

Fenris tilted his face towards her for a moment before facing the fire again. “You still know what happened.”

It wasn’t a question.

Hawke couldn’t bring herself to lie to him as much as she wished she could. “I do. There was nowhere far enough away I could go to not hear everything. I’m sorry.” 

He glanced up at her in surprise. “It is not your fault, Hawke.” 

“We couldn’t do anything. If you didn’t realize on your own that it was a dream, we would have been stuck there while that...that... _man_ tortured you.” Hawke curled her hands into fists. “I’m sorry. If I could have gotten you out of that sooner, I would have.”

He shook his head before his stare returned to the fireplace. “It’s nothing I haven’t been through before.” He paused for several moments before continuing. “I was Danarius’s most favored slave. Which meant I was the first available for his enjoyment whether that meant privately with him, a magister he was trying to impress, or through public humiliation. He expected perfection from me.” He held out his hand and the lyrium marks began glowing blue. “A step below perfection meant punishment and he was very creative with his punishments.” 

He picked up an empty bottle next to him and chunked it into the fire. “Nothing belonged to me. Not my body, not thoughts, not my actions, and not even my pain. Everything belonged to my master.” Fenris turned to look at Hawke again. “After a punishment I always felt bad because I had embarrassed my master, I had disappointed him, I had _forced_ him punish me.”

“Fenris,” Hawke said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

He turned from her. “I imagine you must find me weak.” 

“Never,” She kept her voice soft. “You are one of the strongest people I know.” She took a cautious step towards him. “You’ve been through so much at the hands of people...of mages. Yet you still work with me.” After Fenris didn’t flinch, Hawke took another, slightly bolder, step towards him. “You spend time with me even though you have nightmares that I...sell you back to Danarius.” Her voice cracked at the word sell. “You own yourself, Fenris.” She moved to him and laid a cautious hand on his shoulder. “You’re special to me, Fenris. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.” 

He laid a hand on hers and looked up, his expression soft. “You’re special to me, as well. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. I’m sorry that I...hurt you by letting you know that one of my fears is you betraying me. I never meant for you to know.” 

Hawke sank to her knees, taking both his hands in hers. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not about how I feel, but about how you feel. You’ve been through so much and I need you to know that I’m here for you.” 

Fenris slowly reached a hand up, tracing it down the side of Hawke’s face. “I worry that...this is the dream and the nightmare was real. That I’m just a slave dreaming of freedom. I don’t know what I would do if you left me, Hawke.” Those last words come out pained. “I want to believe you’re not like the magisters. I want to believe that you won’t rip my heart from my chest because you enjoy the pain.” 

Hawke sat back onto her feet. “I cried. Anders had to hold me back from destroying the whole room to prevent your screams of pain. I was wholly unable to think rationally on my own. I could have doomed all of us.”

“I’m not thanking the mage.” His mouth curved into a wry smile.

Hawke smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Fenris slid from the chair down to the ground next to Hawke. Hawke moved to curl up next to him. She took one of his hands in hers and traced circles on it. After staying silent for several long moments, she said, “I will prove it to you.” 

Fenris glanced at her in surprise.

She continued. “I will prove that I’m not like those mages or magisters you’ve dealt with before. I care for you deeply because you’re _you_ , not because of your skills or what I can get from you. Maybe it won’t help all your nightmares, but I hope it will soothe some.” 

He pulled Hawke into his chest and she snuggled into his shoulder. Fenris laid his cheek on the top of her head and sighed contentedly. The two watched the flames spark and flicker. 


End file.
